Rebels of the Sacred Heart
by Sith Happens
Summary: Songfic, just a little oneshot.  If you know the Irish rock band Flogging Molly and especially this songthen you'll know what I'm getting at.


"Rebels Of The Sacred Heart" 

A/N Of course I don't own "Boondock Saints." Flogging Molly owns "Rebel of the Sacred Heart" which is a killer song and, naturally, the Irish Angels of Veritas et Aequitas would enjoy this sort of music.

---

_Now Im aimin' for heaven  
But probably wind up down in hell  
Where upon this alter I will hang my guilt ridden head  
But its time Ill take before I begin  
Three sheets to the wind, Three sheets to the wind_

The MacManus brothers sat in the back of a dark pub in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Several bottles of beer down, the boys were laughing and singing an old Irish pub song. Some of the other patrons had joined in, even the barmaid who had been bringing their drinks was smiling and humming the tune. As she walked away, both boys tilted their heads to get a fuller view of her swaying hips. Their heads beat together and both let out yelps of pain.

Conner smacked the back of Murphy's head. Murphy grunted and tackled Conner back onto the bench. They fell off onto the floor, knocking the table over as they wrestled around. Laughing as they smacked and punched each other in a puddle of spilled beer and ashes, the brothers almost didn't notice when the pub door burst open letting in the harsh afternoon sun.

Two men wearing all black barged into the pub, blazing guns and shouting for everyone to get on the ground.

_Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be  
Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep  
Were the rebels of the sacred heart  
I said no ball or chain no prison shall keep  
Were the rebels of the sacred heart_

As the two robbers terrified the pub patrons by demanding money and jewelry, Conner and Murphy sat behind the overturned table. They pulled their guns out and slowly slid the magazines in, doing their best to make the connecting click unheard. Murphy pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to Conner, lighting both. With two curt nods, the twins stood, guns trained on the burglars.

" 'Ey, fuckers," Murphy said around his cigarette, getting the men's attention.

Both robbers turned to face them as Conner added "Ye picked the wrong pub."

One of the other men aimed at Murphy's head. His finger pulled back on the trigger, but the barmaid rose behind him, breaking a bottle over his head. The shot went wide, but it did signal the start of the gunfight. If a fight is what you would call it, because with four well-placed bullets, the robbers fell dead to the floor. Murphy and Conner stood over them, barrels still trained on the bodies cautiously.

Police sirens could be heard from several blocks away. No doubt some nosey apartment tenant called the cops when the first shot was fired. The brothers started to arrange the bodies, but the bartender and barmaid stopped them, both holding handfuls of pennies.

"Go," the bartender urged, crossing the men's arms while the barmaid placed pennies on their eyes. When the brothers didn't make a move to leave the bartender repeated more harshly "Go now! We'll say our own prayers over these bastards. Go, before the cops get here."

Conner grabbed his brother and headed out the door.

_  
Terrified of the open road  
Yeah, where it leads ya never know  
But rest assured hell be on your back  
Yeah, the Holy Ghost through his tongues in black_

The twins ran down the street, keeping just ahead of the sounds of police sirens. They knew the backroads and alleys of South Boston better than most people that had lived there all their lives. Taking one corner though has them nearly running straight into a squad car. The boys backpedaled, pulling at and dragging each other back from the road. Murphy grabbed the sleeve of his brother's peacoat and ran into the cathedral behind them

It was late enough even for a Sunday that most of the pews weren't occupied. Of course several people were lingering around for confession, but the brothers were able to find a place in the very back to seek sanctuary. Kneeling, they made the sign of the cross and gave quick prayers thanking Christ and the Mother Mary for seeing them safely from the pub.

_As the band dog howls and the young girl cries  
The blessed virgin in her proud dads eye  
The albatross hangin' round your neck  
Is the cross you bare for your sins he bleeds_

Well after the sirens had died away, the boys decided it was safe enough for them to leave the cathedral. Night had fallen by then, leaving the streetlights in charge of illuminating the world with their sickly yellow glow. Looking both ways before leaving the vestibule, the twins headed for home. The loft housing they'd been staying in with their da was several blocks away, but it was too risky to grab a taxi.

They were rather quick, even for being nearly three sheets to the wind. They were almost at home before they heard a small scuffle down one of the alleys. Pausing a moment to listen, the boys realized a woman was shouting in a frightened tone. They wasted no time rushing in, guns drawn, just in time to hear the woman scream and see a man ripping at her clothes.

Murphy came up behind the man, beating him over the head with the butt of his gun. Conner grabbed the woman and pulled her back a few steps. The assailant looked up at Murphy from the ground. "Who the fuck are you?"

With a smirk, Murphy said "Did ye hear that, Con? Who the fuck're we?"

"Guess he doesn't watch the news much," Conner laughed. He turned the woman so she was facing him. "Off with ye now, lass. This ain't nothin' for ye to be sein'."

"But," she protested weakly. "My crucifix."

Conner looked confused for a moment, then realized what she was talking about. Giving a quick look around, he saw a necklace laying on the ground. He picked it up by the chain and wiped the cross clean of mud as he slid it around her neck. "Best be keepin' that with ye, miss."

The woman nodded nervously and ran off down the alley for the main road. Conner joined his brother in leaning standing over the man.

"Someone should've taught ye how ta treat women better," Murphy said with a bitter smile.

_Genuflect all you refugees who fled the land  
Now on guilt you kneel  
And say a prayer for those left behind  
From beyond the pale to the Northern sky_

"Speakin' of how ta treat women," Conner said as he and his brother folded the man's arms over his chest. "I think that bar lass has a wee bit of a crush on me."

Murphy laughed and shoved his brother's chest a little. "In yer dreams, maybe. I know she has the hots fer me."

"Oh, is that right," Conner asked, giving his brother a swat to the forehead.

Murphy went to hit him back, but Conner raised his hands. "Not in front of the dead guy, Murph. Show some respect, will ye?"

"Hiding behind a corpse, eh, ye pussy," Murphy joked, lighting a cigarette as Conner placed the pennies over the dead man's eyes.

Conner came up swinging, just as Murphy knew he would. They tussled a little, like old times, both remembering how they used to wrestle in the grassy fields back home in Ireland.

_So you saved your shillins and your last six pence  
Cause in Gods name they built a barbed wire fence  
Be glad you sailed for a better day  
But dont forget therell be hell to pay_

"Why did we ever come ta this country anyway," Murphy asked, shaking his head as they continued their trek home. "It's full of murderin', rapin', theivin' bastards."

"Aye," Conner nodded. "But we made the choice ta come 'ere, and now it's our job to clean up some of the mess."

Murphy nodded this time, too, taking a drag from his cigarette.

_Resurrection no protection all things life must be  
Ah no ball or chain no prison shall keep  
Were the rebels of the sacred heart_

When they got to the loft, the brothers found a note waiting for them on the table. Apparantly their father had a bit of business to attend to and thought it best for the boys to stay behind. Someone needed to keep the streets safe for the citizens. The last paragraph reminded the boys to say their prayers, which made both of them laugh.

No doubt when their father returned, they'd all be a little richer and able to eat decent food and buy decent drink. As it were, the fridge had a few last cans of beer and a turkey sandwich with some potato ships. Conner took out the sandwich and cut it in half, giving part to Murphy.

"Dinner is served."

_Now bless me father for I have sinned  
But its the same old story again and again and again  
Ah well, such is the bread of an everyday life  
From mornin' to noon to this shadowless-night_

_Ah well, such is the bread of an everyday life  
From mornin' to noon to this shadowless-night_

Both brothers laid on their mattresses, eating their sandwiches and sipping their beers. The day was winding down, each one starting to feel the effects of the day taking their toll. Murphy raised his can of beer toward his brother with a smile.

"Here's to another day well spent," he laughed.

Conner raised his can as well, chewing a mouthful of food with a smile. Once he had swallowed his food, he sat up and pulled his shirt off to settle into bed. Murphy did likewise, lighting up another cigarette and flipping the ashes into the ashtray on the ground beneath his hand.

"G'night, Conner," he said around his cigarette, putting his hands behind his head on the pillow.

Conner mirrored him on his own bed. "Night, Murphy."

They closed their eyes and drifted off into sleep.

_  
Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be  
Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep  
Were the rebels of the sacred heart  
I said no ball or chain no prison shall keep  
Were the rebels of the sacred heart_


End file.
